Code Name: Tiara by Sawyer Bennett
CHAPTER 19
Jackson
Debriefing is a pain in the ass. But it’s something that must be done at the end of every mission, as it’s not only important to chronicle the events but also to memorialize the lessons we can learn from them. On top of that, my information will be fed into our AI predictive program, BOB, and that intel will be used later on similar missions.
I stare at the words on my laptop, a summary of our last stop on the trip. We spent a day in Jackson, Wyoming, because Camille loves the snow and Jackson is renowned for its ski slopes in the winter. While this day was not like the utter relaxation she had on Sunset Key, it was still a vacation stop meant for her to do something fun.
It was, without a doubt, the best time I’ve spent with her. Some of that may have been because we were at the end of the trip, and when time is short, it becomes precious. But most of it was watching Camille, full of unfettered joy while out on the slopes. She looked adorable in her ski suit, helmet, and goggles with her long hair streaming in the wind as I chased her downhill. Luckily, Paul and I are experienced skiers, and we were able to be at her side for every trip up and down the mountain. Agents had been posted along the slopes, all information included in my report. Kynan would be interested in those details, and not the fact that I loved hearing Camille laugh when she’d fall, which wasn’t often.
I type a few more lines. We had one agent operating a drone over the area to keep eyes on the princess at all times, a rather innovative idea of mine. It’s that drone, however, that might cause a problem if the footage is reviewed. My lips curve as I remember a very specific incident where Camille, Paul, and I were coming down the slope. Camille ended up taking a tumble. Paul was already ahead of her, and I called for him to stop while I slid to a stop several feet before her and carefully sidestepped my way to her. Camille was laughing, as usual, which meant she wasn’t hurt, so I waved Paul on.
When I reached a gloved hand down to help her up, she jerked hard and pulled me off balance. I went down right on top of her, and neither one of us minded a damn bit.
We had what ended up being a longer than I had planned kiss, and I’m quite sure the drone picked it up. I’m sure the agent operating it was shocked to hell, and who knows who he’ll tell, but at this point, I just don’t care.
Regardless, I’m definitely leaving that part out of the written report. There’s no telling what BOB would do with it, but I imagine in the future, all dossiers will have a big red warning not to get physically or emotionally involved with clients.
While I’m not putting any of what happened between me and Camille in my debriefing report, I will tell Kynan what happened when I get back. I take my job seriously, and it was a mistake to go there with Camille. But in hindsight, I regret nothing on a personal level. Not sure what will happen when I return, but I will let the chips fall where they may.
After we arrived at the Bretaria airport, a ten-car convoy of vehicles and agents escorted us to the palace with no problems. Camille and I traveled in the rear of an SUV with another agent driving and Paul in the front seat. We sat as far apart as two people can in that back seat, but when she stretched her arm and placed her hand down on the center seat, I didn’t hesitate to reach and cover it with mine. We rode that way until we pulled onto the palace grounds and then quietly pulled apart.
The king and queen were waiting under the carport at one of the palace’s back entrances. Camille ran into their arms, and it was clear that the reunion was going to be more than just repetitive hugs. The three of them walked off with Camille chattering about the trip. I knew she would at some point today tell her father that she knew about the threat to their lives. After she got over her anger that he would dare keep her in the dark, she was happy to know the truth. And she wanted her father to know that he cannot hide things from her anymore. She always did better knowing exactly what might come her way.
I was led back to the security offices where, in one of the conference rooms, a large lunch had been laid out. While I ate, I gave Dmitri a brief rundown of how things went, but he knew I would be providing a full and detailed debriefing tomorrow. After lunch, I offered my regards and retired to my room to start on my written report.
I’d been in my room about an hour, typing away, when a knock came to my door. It was one of the palace staff carrying a tray with a small, ornately carved wooden box with a gold lock that had a key stuck in it. A card sat next to the box.
The staff person merely said, “This is from the king, sir.”
I gave the box a dubious once-over and took the envelope, opening the heavy linen stationery to find a handwritten card inside.
Mr. Gale,
Please accept this gift as a small token of my appreciation for a job well done in protecting my daughter. We would very much love to have you join us for dinner tonight at 7:00 p.m.
I was surprised that he had signed it merely Thomas.
While the staff person waited, I placed the envelope back down on the tray and gingerly turned the key in the small wooden box. I opened it and almost choked when I saw that it was filled with rubies. At least a cup’s worth in various sizes. I have no clue the value of gemstones, but I’ve learned enough from Camille to know that their mines produce only the highest quality of these red stones. I’m pretty sure I was looking at an early retirement.
I closed the box and turned the key to lock it again, my eyes moving to the staff person. “Will you relate to the king my sincere gratitude for the invitation to dinner, but I must decline as I have a lot of work to do to get ready for the debriefing tomorrow. Also, please pass on my regrets, but I am unable to accept the gift. It’s prohibited by my employer.”
The staff person looked panicked at my refusal to both offers but ultimately just bobbed his head and said, “As you wish, sir.”
After he turned on his heel, I closed the door and went back to my laptop to continue working.
It was a lie, of course. Bonuses and gifts after a job was completed weren’t prohibited, but fuck if I was going to accept something that extravagant. It was beyond ridiculous.
Since that visit, I’ve been nose to the grindstone, working steadily on the report. I clean up a few emails, including one to Kynan letting him know I will send the debrief when it’s finished as well as confirming I’ll be leaving Bretaria tomorrow morning. He and I talked yesterday, and he granted my request for a few days off. I’m going to Arlington to visit my parents for a while. While my dad is out of the hospital and doing well, I’m due some vacation time and would like to check on them.
Knock, knock, knock.
I look at the time and see it’s almost six. I’d ordered a tray of food to be delivered so I could continue working through dinner. Camille promised to come to my room later tonight—which would be our last night together—and I wanted to get my work done.
I push up from my desk and move to the door, noticing the faint rumble of hunger in my stomach. I ordered just a sandwich—don’t care what kind—and a beer.
It’s comical, really. I’m sure the palace employs a host of renowned chefs, and honestly, I’d be good with a PB&J right now.
And the beer, of course.
I turn the knob and swing open the door, wondering if I’m supposed to tip the staff that brings me food.
That thought immediately fizzles when I see King Thomas and Dmitri standing there.
I give a courteous nod. “King Thomas.”
“Would you mind if we came in to talk?” he asks, and I immediately step back to make room for them to enter. What am I going to do? Say no to the king in his own home?
He moves past me, shoulders thrown back and chin lifted… it’s his regular courtly bearing I’ve witnessed on the few occasions I’ve been around him. Dmitri comes in behind and shuts the door, immediately placing his back to it and clasping his hands before him.
Thomas turns to face me with a hard glare. “I’m very unhappy with you, Mr. Gale.”
Funny. The man just sent up a fortune in rubies a few hours ago. But I’m pretty sure I know what’s got his ire flared.
“You told my daughter about the threats to my life and now possibly hers,” he accuses.
“I did,” I reply matter-of-factly and elaborate no further.
“Your orders were to share no information of that nature with her.”
“She asked me point-blank,” I reply mildly. “Would you have me lie to her?”
“Yes, damn it all to hell,” he grumbles. “You should have lied to her. She doesn’t need that worry.”
“My apologies,” I say, inclining my head and trying to sound humble. “But I’m not the type to lie.”
“You don’t sound apologetic,” the king says, but there’s no heat to his words.
“I’m actually not,” I say, and this is where I hope they don’t have a guillotine. “I’ve come to know your daughter on this trip, and Camille isn’t the type who does well being in the dark on things.”
The king studies me silently and then waves a hand. “That’s actually not why I’m here.”
I motion to the corner seating arrangement. My room is huge and not only has a massive four-poster king-size bed but also a small dining table that seats six, a desk, and a living area with a couch and two wingback chairs, all done in a heavy blue-and-gold brocade.
The king shakes his head, and Dmitri steps away from the door, catching my attention. “Camille turns twenty-five in eleven days,” the big Russian says.
I nod my understanding. “Once she turns twenty-five, she can name a secret heir apparent and thus the threat to her life lessens significantly.”
“Yes,” the king intones. “We should be able to get back to normal and hopefully have the issue with my cousin wanting us both dead wrapped up.”
“But until then,” Dmitri continues, “she’s at her greatest risk.”
I don’t reply. They’re not telling me anything new, and it’s been a source of worry for me. It’s going to be a long eleven days.
“We’re vetting all palace personnel again, adding extra security, installing metal detectors, and performing random searches. All nonessential personnel have been given a paid sabbatical and sent off palace grounds.”
“Seems like you have it all in check,” I say, because it’s exactly what I would do. Well, I’d probably lock her up in a steel vault with me being the only one who knows the code, and I’d stand watch outside with a machine gun ready to take out anyone who approached. But some might consider that extreme.
Dmitri steps closer, glances over, and the king again waves his hand as if he is fine with Dmitri carrying on the rest of this conversation. When his gaze comes back to me, he says, “But we do have one big event, and that’s a party in five days that will celebrate Camille’s birthday and her ascension to heir apparent. Foreign dignitaries from all over the world will be flying in. There will be extra people coming in to deliver flowers, caterers, cleaning crews. It will be when she’s most vulnerable.”
My jaw tightens over the danger, but the solution is simple. “Cancel the party or move it until after she turns twenty-five.”
“Not an option.” Dmitri rubs at the back of his neck. “It’s tradition. This is a big event in Bretaria’s history. The party will go on, and to make sure we have the best security protocol in place, we want you to stay on as her personal guard until she turns twenty-five. We’ve already run this by your employer, Mr. McGrath. He has given permission for you to stay but said it’s your call.”
Narrowing my eyes, I turn toward the king. “Did Camille ask for this? Was this her idea?”
Thomas frowns. “Of course not. This was Dmitri’s idea, and I concur. Whether Camille wants this is irrelevant.”
I’m not sure how that makes me feel. I’d feel she was prolonging the inevitable by forcing me to stay, and I don’t like being manipulated. But the fact she didn’t ask for me to stay grates on my nerves a bit. It would extend our time together—which is stupid for me to even want something like that. The break needs to come and come fast so we can move on with our lives.
“The only thing Camille asked for was that you be given access to her plane to take you back to the States so you don’t have to fly commercial. Given your refusal earlier of my gift, the least I can do is offer her plane. But I am begging you to extend your stay until after her birthday.”
I turn from the men, rubbing my jaw. I give the impression I’m thinking about the offer, but in truth, there’s no way I can say no. I’ve been worried about leaving Camille. While I know I’m just one man, I’m one who can be closest to her and her last line of defense.
On top of that, while I know the right thing to do is make a clean break and go—because they can get anyone to guard her, really—fuck if I want to leave her just yet. Eleven more days with her sounds really good.
Knowing I’m probably going to regret the further entanglement, I turn back and incline my head to the king. “I’ll gladly stay to help protect Camille until her twenty-fifth birthday.”
“I expect you to stick to her like glue,” the king demands imperiously.
I have to bite my tongue not to laugh. I’d lay my life down for her, but he has no clue how close I can get to Camille. How close I intend to get to her at every opportunity.
“I’ll protect her with my life, Your Majesty,” I assure him. “I won’t let her out of my sight.”
Thomas frowns slightly, as if he thinks I might have a double meaning in my words, but ultimately decides he got what he came for—my agreement to protect his daughter.
With a curt nod, he says, “Thank you. I wish you good night.”
“Good night,” I reply and watch as the king leaves my room—noting two agents in the hall ready to escort him—and noting further that Dmitri doesn’t move.
I arch an eyebrow.
“I know about you and the princess,” he says flatly.
I don’t say a word.
“Apparently, one of the agents caught you on the drone kissing her in Wyoming,” he continues, pausing to see if I’ll admit anything.
I don’t. I’m also glad it wasn’t Paul who ratted me out. But I expected this might happen.
Dmitri sighs, and for the first time, I notice that he actually looks stressed. He’s taking these threats as seriously as I am, and it’s weighing on him.
So I cut him a little slack. “Nothing will happen to her, I promise.”
I get a curt nod in reply. “I was going to move you to a room next to hers. I assume I don’t have to do that now.”
“No,” I admit. “I’ll be in her room all night.”
Another long sigh and he heads for the door.
“Does the king know?” I ask.
Dmitri glances back at me. “No. And it’s a good thing too. Rumor has it there’s a secret dungeon under the throne room—with a guillotine.”
“Funny guy,” I mutter.
“Who said I’m joking?” Dmitri replies with a flash of evil in his eyes, and then he’s gone.
As soon as the door closes, there’s another knock and I open it. It’s a waiter with my meal, complete with silver dome over whatever sandwich they sent up. I’m happy to see the opened bottle of beer with a frosted pilsner glass beside it.
Pulling my phone from my pocket, I nod toward the dining table. “You can set it over there.”
While the waiter makes a production of laying out linen napkins, silverware, and a set of crystal salt and pepper shakers, I think about the extra time I’ll be spending with Camille, and I know it’s only going to make it harder to leave in the end.